Cherry Tart
by ShardsandAshes
Summary: How a food fight helped Minerva McGonagall find her soul mate.


**Disclaimer****: I don't own it, and I make no money off of it. Please don't sue me.**

**AN****: This AU story takes place about two years after the Battle of Hogwarts. It involves a relationship between Minerva McGonagall and an adult Hermione Granger. This story was actually my very first attempt at this pairing, and I decided to dust it off, fix a few problems, add more detail, and repost it. HG/MM is my new favorite pairing so watch for more stories with it. There are no lemons here, just some nice, silly fluff. This story is dedicated to MegaNerdAlert who is encouraging me as I ease into this pairing and who has been sweet enough to give me one of her plot bunnies (which I hope to get written and posted this coming week). In the meantime, here's a little thank you.**

Minerva wondered if she should have let things get so out of hand. She had no idea who had started the food fight, but she knew that she had neglected to nip it in the bud when she had the chance. Albus would likely have just let it go for a while. Actually, knowing Albus, he would have joined in. But Albus wasn't here. Severus would have stopped it immediately, unless, of course, his Slytherins were winning. But Snape was gone too. So she said nothing, sitting practically alone at the head table as she keenly missed the two bravest victims of the war.

Nearly all her professors, including Filius, her deputy, had been coaxed, coerced, or dragged with varying degrees of willingness into the fray. She didn't begrudge them their fun, and if she hadn't been the headmistress, she might even have been tempted to join them. Perhaps she should acknowledge that she was just getting too old for this. After all, no one wanted an old woman ruining their fun. She leaned back in her chair, idly turning her teacup around on its saucer with a barely audible sigh of resignation.

The only other person still sitting at the head table happened to be her newest professor, Hermione Granger. Hermione had returned to Hogwarts to make up the time she had missed during her seventh year, and she had spent the following year in Australia, mourning privately as she put her deceased parents' affairs in order. Despite her best efforts, it had not been Death Eaters but muggles who had caused the death of her parents. They had died in a car crash just after the Final Battle. Hermione had kept in contact with Minerva, and Minerva had been happy to offer her the vacant muggle studies position.

Within a week of Minerva's offer, Hermione had returned, and the presence of the younger witch was more of a comfort and a distraction to her than she would readily admit. More and more lately, Minerva had to remind herself that she was far too old for a lover, especially one as young and full of life as Hermione. But against her better judgment, a friendship had developed between the two of them, and the headmistress couldn't help but notice that her student had grown into a lovely woman. She was no school girl now. It was getting harder and harder to push away Hermione's increasingly obvious and completely inexplicable interest in her.

Minerva felt a hand on her arm and looked up startled into Hermione's face.

"Shall we join them, Minerva?"

Of course, the headmistress refused. "Now, Hermione, you know I can't do that. I am the headmistress, after all. It would not be appropriate."

The younger witch gestured to the happy chaos. "And this is? Do you really want to be that much of a hypocrite?"

The headmistress winced. That accusation stung, and she responded angrily, "How dare you call me that!"

"Would you prefer party pooper?" Hermione retorted.

Minerva scowled. "I am nothing of the sort."

"Is stick in the mud more appropriate? How about spoilsport? Ah, I know! We'll call you a wet blanket!" Hermione's brown eyes held no anger, only mischief that quite suddenly reminded Minerva of Albus. That smirk on her face, however, was all Severus. Thinking of Albus and Severus and looking at Hermione, she knew both men would be very pleased to see the young woman now.

Blinking away sudden tears, Minerva turned back to the matter at hand. Hermione had her, and they both knew it. But it wouldn't do for her to give in too easily. So the headmistress sputtered indignantly even as she fought the flush trying to creep across her cheeks.

Hermione folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the table, clearly not buying a word of the elder witch's resistance. Minerva was pleased in spite of herself. Her former student had certainly grown a backbone during the year she had been gone.

Hermione waited until the headmistress exhausted all her objections. Then she extended her hand.

"Come on, Minerva. Come with me."

Minerva hesitated. There was a feeling of finality with this, the idea that, if she accepted Hermione's hand, she could never go back to who she once was. She could never go back to being alone.

But did she really want to be alone?

She took Hermione's hand.

Hermione's smile lit up her face, and she squeezed Minerva's hand gently, feeling it tremble ever so slightly against her own. The headmistress swallowed hard and let the younger woman lead her down from the head table into a much happier battle than the last one that had taken place in the Great Hall. Everyone stopped what they were doing when they saw the headmistress. No one dared to risk her wrath, and Minerva bit back a smile to think that she was still such a formidable witch. But really, this was a bit absurd.

So she let the smile come, and she let them see the mischief in her green eyes.

"Do you mind if we join you?"

The room went mad.

Of course, it was Hermione who got in the first hit on the headmistress (the thought being that if the headmistress allowed it then she really meant what she said). By the time Hermione dumped a bowl of custard over Minerva's head, and the headmistress retaliated with mashed potatoes and gravy in her professor's face, they were thoroughly convinced that she meant it.

Then the food was flying again, and Minerva was laughing, laughing like she hadn't laughed in years. Her hair had long since fallen out of its prim bun and hung in sticky tangles around her equally sticky face. She couldn't even remember what color her robes had been because they were so filthy that they gave her no clue. Feeling like a naughty child, she licked whipped cream off her fingers. She had been quite a terror herself in terms of mischief and pranks during her Hogwarts years, and this was like being a teenager all over again. Hermione watched her with a grin on her face. Then she gasped as Minerva caught her in her arms and kissed her passionately, startling the younger witch who wasted no time pulling the headmistress closer. When they finally broke apart, they were both red in the face for reasons that had nothing to do with the cherry tart dripping down their cheeks.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" Hermione asked softly, suddenly shy, looking at Minerva through the sticky clumps of hair that hung in her eyes. The older woman had always refused her before.

Minerva sighed bemusedly. "I will…after we get ourselves and the rest of the school cleaned up."

Hermione giggled, looking around at the mess. "I don't even think the house elves can manage to fix this one. Do you think Hogwarts could help?"

She had scarcely finished speaking before the food on the floor, the tables, and the walls disappeared, and they all looked up startled as it started to pour down rain…inside the Great Hall. Everyone watched in amazement as Hogwarts herself saw to the needs of her family and gave them a thorough bath. Finally, the rain stopped, and wands waved as drying charms were applied with the older students helping the younger ones who had not yet learned the charm.

"Welll, this is proof that Hogwarts takes care of her own," Minerva commented when she realized the whole school seemed to be waiting for her to speak. And then she did something else as well.

The applause was deafening as Minerva McGonagall kissed Hermione Granger.


End file.
